c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(8-24)
Commander Hornell Block sat silently on the Morningstar III, as he watched a viewscreen that wrapped around an entire wall of the vessel’s bridge. A lone Digger shuttle exited from their flight deck, and made a slingshot move that aimed its trajectory downward and into the planetary atmosphere, below. Earth was blue and inviting and calm, just as old books from the library in Texas City had described it from a century ago. Yet it seemed a bit forlorn, and overlooked by humanity in modern terms.
Lt. Kelly Strafe closed her eyes, and said a prayer. Something that was very uncommon for a member of the Space Force, on active duty.
“God, go with my friend. Guide him and keep him safe...”
Navigator Alden Gale winced at this open display of faith. He muttered under his breath about superstitions and sorcery. As a volunteer in the service, he had little time for anything theological in nature. Science was his deity.
“Didn’t we leave all those silly notions about holy ghosts and the afterlife behind, on that big piece of rock, down there?”
The ship commander avoided offering any opinion of his own.
“Bring us about, Mr. Gale! Set a course for the space dock, at Mars colony!”
The subordinate officer snapped to attention, immediately. His fingers flew over virtual keys on the console.
“Aye, sir! Plotted and laid in, we will be at the Red Planet in about an hour...”
Strafe did not protest the remark of her fellow crew member. Instead, she candidly wondered about what kind of reception they would face upon reaching their home base.
“Commander, what do you expect when they find out that Dr. Baines returned to the site of Evergreen Estates? Will there be an inquiry?”
Block squared his shoulders and frowned while thinking.
“Maybe? Who knows. I might get a slap on the wrist, or strikes with a laser whip. They could even relieve me of duty here, I have no idea what to expect. But it’ll be better than listening to your egghead pal ramble on about his great-granddad. The past is dead and buried. We don’t need to dredge up skeletons in the 22nd Century. It’s enough that we’ve figured out how to live in peace on worlds where human beings never set foot, before...”
The navigator avoided looking right or left, in an effort to stay focused on his task. Yet he could not pretend to be deaf. Notes of uncertainty about what would transpire when they returned made him nervous.
“Sir, I want to be on record as having nothing to do with the escape of that university professor. None of us deserve any discipline. It wasn’t our call!”
Commander Block nodded in agreement. He took no offense from the young recruit’s blunt honesty.
“Noted, Mr. Gale! No one on this craft bears any responsibility. I’ll take the blame. We are better off with him out in the brush of Ohio, exploring. He was a loose wheel on this ship. Not one of us, not a member of the force. Individualism gets left at the door, when you join our ranks. Everything we do onboard is for the greater good. Scholars can spend their days leafing through dusty old volumes, or snooping around in tombs and empty buildings. We have a mission to fulfill. Our work is to better the lives of all mankind, wherever they have ended up, throughout the solar system...”
Strafe took a deep breath, and smoothed her uniform tunic.
“Are you going to lobby for a follow-up, to check on Dr. Baines?”
Her superior chortled audibly. His disposition was strained and severe, after months without a break in the action.
“I’M NOT GOING TO LOBBY FOR ANYTHING! I’LL TAKE MY LUMPS AND STAND ASIDE! HOPEFULLY, THEY DON’T FROG-MARCH ME TO THE BRIG!”
The lieutenant and navigator both crouched lower in their seats. Neither made any response to this outburst.
From the communications array, static began to squawk and sputter. Then, a familiar voice intoned an official greeting.
“Morningstar? This is Technician Rand Farcourt, at the New Cleveland metropolitan center. I show you on a heading for Mars. Was there any trouble with the planetary storms currently happening on Earth?”
Block chewed his bottom lip and huffed.
“No trouble. We were protected, being in orbit...”
The distant engineer fiddled with virtual dials and icons on his console.
“No issue with bringing your team back from the surface? That meteorological melee looked really bad. Weather patterns have changed a lot since we used to live in the neighborhood.”
The vessel chief sighed loudly. He answered carefully, while dodging the query.
“I’ll upload my report at the space dock. Paperwork isn’t something I enjoy doing...”
Farcourt smiled knowingly. He had spent a lifetime under the thumb of regulatory agencies on their new homeworld.
“I understand, sir. We live in an age of watchers watching. Every move, every step, every word. I trust that you know the drill. We’ve both been on duty for a long time.”
Hornell Block agreed, feeling fatigued.
“Yes, a very long time...”
A red indicator blipped on the display panel, in New Cleveland. This flash could be seen even from a great distance, over their channel of communication. The warning caused a sense of alarm. Other technicians spang into action, as the strobe light continued to shine.
“Commander, we have picked up a small craft over Planet Earth. Do you have any other members of the fleet in your area? Anyone at all?”
His counterpart on the Morningstar reddened with guilt.
“NC center? You’re going fuzzy, it must be from the lightning and thunder below. Those storms send out shock waves of disturbance, we don’t fully understand yet what changed in the terrestrial atmosphere. It’s a mystery we’ve got to work out. Let me focus on getting us home in one piece. I’ll wrangle with the details once we’re docked...”
Technician Farcourt scratched his head and cursed in a whisper. The blaze of red light from his console continued.
“Dammit Hornell, what kind of game are you playing this time? Don’t lie to me, it isn’t worth the effort. Save your doublespeak for the high council!”
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